Of Coffee and Ambrosia
by crimsongravedigger
Summary: Every god had slowly lost interest in humanity. All of them, but one. Ares, god of War, whose wrath had reduced entire cities to ash and rubble, waited. He would spend an eternity sitting quietly on the verge of Olympus, eyes fixed on a certain spot down below. He was in love.


**Of Coffee and Ambrosia;**

Zeus had thrown his last lightning bolt centuries before current generations could see the light of day. Aphrodite never laid eyes on Earth again. Apollo hung up his wings, as did Poseidon with his trident. Every god had slowly lost interest in humanity.

All of them, but one.

Ares, god of War, whose wrath had reduced entire cities to ash and rubble, waited.

He would spend an eternity sitting quietly on the verge of Olympus, eyes fixed on a certain spot down below. His spear, covered in dust, and his helmet, formed of sword tips that used to be as sharp as diamonds, always rested on the ground by his side. What he used to wear with pride and glory had become merely scrap metal with hints of gold.

Aphrodite would often sit nearby and wait for him to speak, but the only thing coming through his mouth was the calm and regular breath that dissolved into the damp air. Ares would not move. He was still as marble, always looking down on Earth. Heavyhearted, she would sigh and walk away, her golden cape fluttering elegantly in the draft. She would sigh and the wild fire dwelling in his eyes would slowly dim, turning into a meager flicker.

The other gods started thinking that Ares was at the point of death. They watched him put a hand on his heart to make sure it was still beating, even though it didn't mean he was _living_. Athena swore she saw him an inch away from the edge, almost about to throw himself into the void of nothingness, only to draw back at the last moment. He knew what embracing the sky below him meant: not only perishing, but also vanishing from everyone's memory. There would have been no more talk about Ares, the god that once smeared his hands in human blood. His pride, as weakened as it was, would have never allowed that.

Aphrodite got up from the table and headed towards the boundaries of Olympus, holding a golden goblet full of ambrosia in her hands. She found Ares, still absorbed in the same ocean of thoughts he had been floating inside ever since what seemed the dawn of times. She smiled softly and handed him the goblet, which was engraved with ancient inscriptions and illustrations.

- You have spent far too many days staring into the abyss, Ares. Is there something upsetting you?

The god caught a glimpse of his own reflection, moving idly on the surface of the drink.

- What do you see, Ares?

- Earth.

Aphrodite squeezed his knee lightly.

- What else? A maid, perhaps?

He shook his head, taking a sip of the sugary beverage. In all the centuries he had been exploring the human lands, he had never really taken interest in a woman. There had been plenty, of course, but nothing short of a distraction.

- If I were to jump, Aphrodite, would you miss me?

- I would miss your obstinacy and your impetuosity, yes.

The goddess' laugh made Ares smile and finally, after a long time, look away from the starry sky. He shifted his gaze on her. Had he decided to jump, that would have been his last sight.

- Ares, we are all worried about you. Please, talk to me. Why do you sit here every day? We won't cast you out, I promise.

Aphrodite gently grabbed his hand and held it tight, hoping to convince him to speak.

- I met someone.

- Oh, but it's wonderful! Why didn't you tell me? Who stole your heart, dear? Was it a goddess?

- Not exactly. I saw this person on Earth, but I went unseen.

Storm clouds swiftly crossed her face, casting a dark and menacing shadow on it. The rules were clear and never to be broken: descending from Olympus and interact with humans was strictly forbidden and the gods who were found guilty of this violation would be cast out, condemned to serve Hades in the dephts of the Underworld.

- Are-

The god raised a hand to interrupt her.

- I know what you are about to say. I acknowledge my mistake, Aphrodite, but boredom can be fatal. I couldn't stand being stuck here, witnessing my weapons rusting away. I just couldn't.

- Does Zeus know?

Ares shook his head again and went back to staring at the nothingness below his sandals.

- I do not want him to know. However, I want to show you what meets my gaze everyday.

With a graceful motion of his hand, he parted the clouds to reveal an air globe hovering in front of their faces, inside of which appeared the figure of a grinning young man, with dark and uncombed hair. He was talking to a similarly dark haired girl. One could say he was not objectively good looking; he had a slightly lopsided jaw, flawed skin and he lacked a few inches. Still, there was something about him that would make Ares shiver. It might have been his look, or his voice, or his American accent and the way it made every word sound like music, or simply his being. He made him feel tiny, insignificant. He made him feel _human._

Aphrodite brought him back to reality by blowing the globe away.

- You have betrayed Father, Ares. He must know. You cannot live in falsehood. I will support you as I have always done, but beware: once you fall, you won't be able to come back.

The gold haired goddess arose and adjusted her white dress. She stroked Ares' shoulder for a moment, then retired in her chambers with a glimmer of hope for him to find his reason again.

The only thing he found was his original wrath, that caused him to hurl the half-full goblet into the void. He seized his own spear with both hands and tried to break it in half, but a mighty figure stopped him before he could succeed. The weapon fell on the ground and ended up at Zeus' feet. Overbearing and strict as usual, he grabbed Ares by the shoulders and shook him hard.

- Do you intend to destroy yourself, son? Are you out of your mind?

The god of War remained silent. His eyes were glowing with terror and despair. He prayed for Olympus to split open and swallow him and his guilt, but the desire he felt for the boy was stronger than his will to die. He wanted him. He wanted him more than he ever wanted anything, even war.

- Did you hear everything I said, Father? Did you see him?

- You cannot neglect your responsibilities, you cannot deny your warrior nature.

- But I love him!

Ares shouted so loud that the clouds below Olympus turned gray and became filled with lightning. An epic and appalling storm was ready to break.

- What do you know of love, Ares? War and death are the only things you have ever cared about. There is blood on your hands and now you expect to feel affection for a puny mortal?

The thunders roared louder and louder. A gust of wind stirred their capes.

- I don't care about war anymore, Father. I love him.

Ares tightened his grip on his father's tunic, who stared at disbelief at the tears running down his son's cheeks. The god of was was crying tears of anger, anger at having lost his own identity. Ares wasn't _Ares_ anymore. He was just a man, wearing a bronze armor, carrying around a spear and a helmet made up of sword tips.

- You deserve to die for what you have asserted.

A lightning bolt formed in Zeus' right hand, but Ares didn't stop crying. He was ready to die. He felt like he didn't deserve to be a divine being anymore. If he couldn't have that boy, death was more than welcome.

Aphrodite came out of her room just in time to see the lightning bolt pierce Ares' chest. She rushed to his aid and tried to take the hand he had outstretched to her, but it was too late.

He fell. Ares, son of Zeus and Hera, god of war and violence, had fallen.

* * *

Scott McCall wasn't too keen on storms. Not that he was afraid of thunders, it was just that they made him anxious and therefore unable to sleep.

God must have been really angry that evening because bolts of lightning were lighting up the sky as if it had been day.

A deafening rumble suddenly broke through the black clouds. Scott twitched his eyes open and almost had a stroke.

He looked at the history textbook still on his desk and rolled his eyes, falling back on the pillow. School had started a few days before but he was already fed up. Maybe going to sleep at 2 in the morning wasn't such a good idea after all. It sounded better in his mind.

When he woke up the following morning, raindrops the size of a baseball were falling from the sky. The smell of strong black coffee drifted across the kitchen where Melissa was making breakfast for the both of them. Scott gulped down a cup of decaf and left. Despite carrying an umbrella and wearing a raincoat, he still managed to get himself wet.

He ran towards the school entrance, having already spotted Stiles in the proximity of their history classroom.

- Dude, I thought you bailed on me! Nice coffee stain on your shirt, matches the jeans.

McCall pushed his best friend away playfully. They both stepped into the classroom and he took his seat next to Lydia. As he was about to pull out his textbook, he locked eyes with Allison.

- There's news.

With a nod she indicated a young man facing backwards, talking to the teacher. He had short, ash blonde hair and two excessively long legs. As soon as he turned around to face his classmates, all of the girls swooned. He was so handsome that Scott almost joined in. He looked plastic, too perfect to be real.

- Class, meet your new friend Isaac.

His face looked chiseled in marble, with a perfectly symmetrical jaw and sapphires instead of eyes. His skin was fair and bright, his body lean but strong looking.

Isaac was clearly fine looking and Scott had been staring at him to the extent that the teacher had to reprimand him.

- McCall, you with us?

- Yeah, sorry. Could you repeat please?

- I said that next week's assignment is to do a research project on Ancient Greece. You'll be working in groups of two and each pair will focus on a certain god or goddess. Scott, why don't you team up with the new guy?

Isaac sat down beside Scott, who smiled at him coyly, still eyeing his perfect profile. He smiled back.

- Ok, this is for you two.

The teacher put a folder on their desk and moved on to the next pair. He rebuked Stiles, who had been complaining about the choice of teammates for quite a while.

- So… Where are you from, if I may ask?

- I moved here from London.

Scott swallowed and tried to avoid his gaze.

- Is your father, like… Greek… or something? Because you… I mean, you have nice features, for a man… Your face is kinda nice, I don't know, I might not be making sense here…

Isaac didn't want to look terrified, but he might have been a bit, because he clenched the folder tightly.

- Um… Yeah, my dad. He's half Greek. Thank you, anyway.

Scott nodded and decided to shift topic, concentrating on the research project. Right after reading the name of the god that the teacher had chosen for them, he felt like tearing his hair out. He didn't know a damn thing about him. And what the hell were those inscriptions? Was it Greek? It was going to take them years to translate that stuff.

- Well, I sure hope your dad can help us with this mumbo jumbo because I honestly don't know a-

- _"Stay and mourn at the tomb of dead Kroisos, whom raging Ares destroyed one day, fighting in the foremost ranks."_

Isaac didn't seem surprised about that warrior's grave inscription.

- Never liked that Kroisos.

He whispered to himself, browsing through the pages of the folder.

Hearing his new classmate's clear diction and flawless pronunciation, Scott looked at him in horror.

- You know _ancient_ Greek?

Isaac grinned and Scott thought he heard someone faint nearby.

- Scott, I think I can help you with this project. I happen to be quite _familiar_ with Ares.


End file.
